


A World Without

by kaydeefalls



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Community: contrelamontre, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-17
Updated: 2003-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydeefalls/pseuds/kaydeefalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Not only do you occasionally imagine a world without Merry, you often wish for it quite fervently."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A World Without

**Author's Note:**

> For the ContreLaMontre "subtle love" challenge.

You occasionally imagine a world without Merry. You expect that your older cousin often imagines a world without you, as well. You do not remember the first time you met Merry, but Merry certainly remembers the first time he met you.

"You were small and smelly, and you cried all the time," Merry mutters grumpily. "And now it's been seven years, and you haven't changed a bit."

You punch him in the stomach as hard as you can. Merry grabs your wrist and bends your arm back until it feels like it might break.

"Merry, stop! I'll tell Mama!" you shriek.

"Go right ahead, Pipsqueak," he says, but he lets go hastily. "See if I care. I'd rather be off lifting apples from old Bracegirdle's orchard with Fatty and Frodo anyway."

You nurse your arm affrontedly. "You're supposed to be minding me," you say, voice full of reproach. "Mama said--"

Merry scowls and flops down on the grass, yanking the tiny petals off a dandelion one by one. "I don't bloody care what your mama said," he says sullenly.

"Yes you do, you have to. And I'm gonna tell Mama that you said a bad word."

"Did not!"

"Did too! You said 'bloody!'"

"That's not a bad word! And anyway, now you said it, too, so you'll be in just as much trouble as me." He reaches up and cuffs you soundly on the back of the head.

Not only do you occasionally imagine a world without Merry, you often wish for it quite fervently.

*

You suppose there might be a world without Merry, but you have trouble imagining it, because, well, you've never actually known a world without Merry.

Except when he goes out of his way to avoid you, of course.

"Frodo," you say miserably, yanking at blades of grass, "they just up and left, and I had told them I'd only be a minute because I knew Mama had just made apple tarts, you see, and I was hungry and I wanted to lift one, but when I got back outside they were gone, and I know it's all Merry's fault."

Frodo gives you an amused look. "Do you ever need to take a breath, or do you just prattle on all day?"

You glare at him, shredding the latest blade of grass with particular violence. "They said I could go with them! Merry said so! Except then he left me."

"Where, exactly, were the lads supposed to take you?"

"Um," you say, becoming very interested in a little purple flower.

"Pippin."

You fold your arms defensively. "To the Boar's Head, but--"

Frodo sighs, leaning back and staring up at the clouds. "Pippin, you're only fifteen. You know your parents would never let you in a pub like the Boar's Head. It's a nasty little hole."

"Merry was supposed to take me," you say sullenly. "He--"

"Oh, do hush about Merry," Frodo says, not unkindly. "The lad is fond of you, in his way, but you really are a bit too young to follow him on some of his adventures, you know."

"No, I'm not."

"Look." He rolls over onto his stomach and looks up at you. "Next time you come visit me at Bag-End, I'll take you to the Green Dragon. Will that do?"

There might very well be a world without Merry, and that would suit you just fine, thank you very much.

*

There's probably a world without Merry, but you don't bother pondering it. The world with Merry involves too much of your life to waste time considering an alternative. At the moment, for example, you're busy munching on the apples you and Merry nicked from old Bracegirdle's orchard not ten minutes ago. And how would you have spent the afternoon in a world without Merry?

The taste of apple is sweet and cloying in your mouth, and your thoughts make a few perfectly logical jumps. "Merry, I saw you and Fatty's sister kissing behind the barn last night." Well, perfectly logical to you, anyway.

He raises an eyebrow and takes a large bite of apple. "So?" he says (around apple).

"I don't like kissing much," you say, wrinkling your nose. "I don't know why you'd want to do it. It's all wet and slimy and unpleasant."

Merry starts to laugh and swallows the apple the wrong way, and spends a solid minute coughing it back up. When he regains his composure, his face is flushed and his lips are still curving rebelliously into a mocking smile. "And you would know this how?"

You straighten your shoulders huffily. "Well, I am very nearly twenty-two. I have kissed girls, you know."

"Girls?"

"Fine, girl, but still. I have. And I don't know why anyone would want to repeat the experience."

After a moment of consideration, Merry leans forward and presses his lips against yours. Your apple falls from your hand to the ground with a thump. And, um, that would be Merry's tongue nudging your mouth open ever so slightly, and.

Well, if you'd known this was what kissing was supposed to be, maybe you wouldn't have spoken so strongly against it.

Merry pulls away abruptly. You stare at him. "No wonder you don't like kissing," he says, smirking a little. "You're not very good at it."

There is certainly a world without Merry, and all you have to do is kill him to experience it. Which sounds like a very good idea.

*

There may not be a world without Merry, but there is a world without Gandalf, and you've just been thrust jarringly into it.

_Your fault_, an increasingly vocal part of your mind whispers._ All your fault. If you hadn't been such a fool, if you hadn't been such a colossal idiot, if you hadn't come along on this quest like the bumbling moron you are..._

The sun's sudden glare refracts off your tears like a thousand little mirrors, bright little flashes of pain. You welcome it. A thousand little mirrors, and your own guilty face reflected in all of them. Your fault, all your fault. Gradually, you become aware of arms around you, hands kneading your shoulder in an awkward attempt at comfort you don't deserve.

In a world without Merry, there would be no one holding you right now. But in a world without Merry, there would also be no one to witness your shame and humiliation. No one who matters, anyway. And that would be a blessing.

*

There's a world without Merry. A whole, vast, empty world without Merry. It's dark and foreboding and scary, with men marching in grim formation and beasts screeching from the sky and mad kings who try to burn their own sons.

It has two other hobbits, two dear friends, off somewhere in some inconceivable place, struggling tiredly towards certain doom, and you're sure you'll never see them again.

It has armies upon armies of oversized men, armies you're too small to be a part of and too small to resist, and no one beside you to tell you _it's all right, Pip, just stick with me and we'll show these overgrown brutes what's what._

It has death. Death is final, you've come to learn. Death is no second chance. Death is a world without.

And perhaps it also has hope, somewhere deep down where most despair of ever finding it. Maybe it has a future of its own, this forbidding world without Merry. It still has a Shire, a home, a family. Other friends. Other cousins. A cozy sitting room with a blazing hearth, a good mug of ale in a cheerfully bustling pub, a warm bed with soft sheets like you haven't slept in since forever. A life that goes on. It's there, maybe. You can only hope.

All this passes through your mind in a flash, cold dread flaring into life in the pit of your stomach, and for a moment, you can't breathe. The Houses of Healing seem to shrink around you, trapping you, suffocating you.

And then Merry, lying pale as death on the bed, opens his eyes. A gentle breeze wafts through the open window, a breath of fresh air. Merry's hand is warm in yours, for the first time in you don't know how long.

You've just seen the world without Merry, and you're very, very glad you'll never have to live in it again.


End file.
